George Mueller: A Father to the Fatherless

Chapter 1

The Young Thief

“I’ve caught you, you young thief!”

George whirled around to see his father, tall and thin, glaring at him in
the doorway. He looked like an exclamation point of anger.

“Only nine years old, and you think you can steal money right off my desk!”
Herr Mueller shouted. He shook his fist, and his face grew red. “Well, I’ve
set a trap for you this time. I know you have that money. Where is it?”

George stood still, as thin and stiff as his father. He stuffed his hands
into his pockets and said nothing.

“Where is it, I say?” Herr Mueller grabbed George’s shirt, and his long,
thin nose almost touched his son’s. “Never mind. I’ll find it,” he growled.
He began to search through George’s pockets. When he found that those were empty,
he cried, “Take off your shoes!”

Slowly George took off one shoe. Then, even more slowly, he took off the
other.

Finally he threw George from him and wiped his forehead. “Now get out of
my sight!” he yelled. Then he turned and marched from the room.

George picked himself up off the floor and rubbed his bruised skin. He glared
after his father with tears of anger in his eyes. “You set a trap for me,” he
whispered. “And you caught me this time. I just have to learn to be more clever.
I promise, Father. I promise that I will never again let you catch me stealing
from you.”

Almost two years went by, and it was 1816. George was nearly eleven, and
his stealing had become very clever indeed. His father hardly ever noticed when
money was missing.

“George,” Herr Mueller said one day, “I want you to study to become a minister.
Ministers make a very good living. You will never have to worry about being
poor. You’ll live comfortably without having to do much work.”

That seemed like a very pleasant kind of life to George. He brushed his hair
out of his eyes so he could concentrate better on what his father was saying.

“It’s time you went off to a larger school than we have here in our town,”
Herr Mueller continued. “I’m sure you’ll do well.”

So George left home while he was still only ten, to live with other boys
in a boarding school. Many of them were supposed to be studying to become ministers.
But most of them were doing it for the same reason as George.

By the time George was thirteen, he and his friends spent time at the tavern
almost every day. There they gambled and drank beer. George had to become more
and more clever in his stealing, because gambling and drinking were expensive
hobbies.

But George was a good student. He could memorize very quickly. When his teacher
asked him his catechism questions, he was ready.

George had memorized the answer. He focused his bright blue eyes on his teacher
and spoke in a clear voice. “It means that we must fear and love God, so that
we will not take our neighbor’s money or property, nor get it by trickery. Instead
we will help him improve and protect his property.” His eyes dropped to the
floor, and he fingered the stolen coins in his pocket.

The teacher asked question after question. George had memorized all of them,
and all the answers that went with them.

“You have done a fine job, young man,” said the teacher. “You are ready to
become a member of the Lutheran church.”

That evening George dressed in a long white robe and carried a candle in
a line with the other boys who were being confirmed. They all knelt at the front
of the church. The pastor laid his hands on each boy in turn, blessing him.

Then George was handed a small bit of bread and a cup. He took the Lord’s
Supper for the first time.

Again George felt the stolen money in his pocket. He thought about other
things he had done wrong, and he began to squirm. “I’ll be better,” he decided.
“I’ll really change.”

But changing was just too hard. Before long, George again stole a large amount
of money. He spent the money gambling and drinking.

“I guess I’ll never change,” he thought. “And maybe I don’t even care.”